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The waves crashed onto the shore, the gentle and repetitive sound washing over Hajime. He leaned down and rolled up the cuffs of his pants before stepping forward, walking to where the water could reach him. The very edge of the tide lapped at his ankles. The water was cold but refreshing in the island’s humid heat. He had never fared well in high temperatures.
He dragged his foot forward and kicked through the water a little. Hajime looked down, watching it ripple and break around his movements. Eventually, though, he stopped kicking through the water and set his foot back down. He adjusted himself slightly and felt himself sink the smallest bit into the sticky wet sand under the surface.
There weren't a lot of rocks on the Jabberwock beach- Certainly not as many as the ocean he remembered going to when he was younger. Hajime had been young enough that he barely remembered what it was like but it was one of the few memories he had of home not tainted by stress over things like school.
It was before he had transitioned. He remembers being a little girl and his Mom brushing his hair and then braiding it so it wouldn’t get in the way. He remembers walking outside holding her hand and then stepping onto the sand and feeling the pebbles dig into his soft feet. Even if there were more stones on this beach, it wouldn’t hurt as much as the ones back then had, when his skin was still soft and uncalloused. He could still recall the feeling of his Mom’s gentle and soft hands holding his and guiding him around. He had been a shy and timid kid, so he had required a lot of guidance from his parents whenever they went out. That shyness had evolved to loneliness as he got older and started focusing more on things like his studies.
Hajime missed his home and his parents. They hadn’t been perfect, but they had tried their best for him. Thinking about how he could never get them back made the pressure behind his eyes increase.
People just kept leaving him and he kept losing them. He hadn’t had many friends in the Reserve Course, but… All of them were gone. He was the only one left. What had he done to deserve being the one spared? What had he done to deserve the Kamukura Project? He wasn’t anything special. There were plenty of people in the Reserve Course who were special and didn’t deserve to be there. Natsumi had deserved to be in the Main Course more than most. The two of them had shared that goal, and it had felt nice to find someone who was on a similar page to him.
Or at least, on a similar page to what he had thought back then. In truth, his feelings on Hope’s Peak had grown bitter and angry over time. Remembering the Kamukura Project had certainly left a sour taste in his mouth.
He spent so long clawing for more, filled with an insatiable hunger to be something besides what he was. He wanted power, wanted respect. He wanted and wanted and wanted. It felt like all he could do was want and hope and then fail. Maybe, though, it was alright if he wasn’t anything special. Maybe it's better that way, even. Not everyone gets to be special and not everyone saves the world. Some people need to be normal and that's alright even if sometimes it feels a little unfair. Lots of things feel unfair. People want so much of him but don't really listen when he tries to speak. It's defeating.
Hajime looked up at the sky. It was a pinkish orange now, as the sun began setting. It cast a warm glow on the water, making it almost purple. It was pretty. For some reason, seeing it made him feel weepy.
It had been so long since the events of the killing game. The weeks spent afterwards waiting for everyone to wake up had been torment. He remembered sitting by Komaeda’s bed and waiting. Back then, all he had done was wait and try to keep himself busy.
He liked to make himself useful. It was tiring but important to him. Besides, when he stayed dormant and sat around for too long, one of his episodes was usually triggered. So Hinata liked to do what he could and stay as active as possible.
He still wasn’t perfect at utilizing any of his implanted talents yet. He was still slightly clumsy and stiff, and he did things more like a robot than anything else. His inability to perform as naturally and casually as everyone else on the island sometimes got on his nerves. (It often got on his nerves, actually. It felt like a constant reminder that he was an outsider and didn’t belong.) Any of his free time was usually spent with Komaeda.
It wasn't like Nagito spent his free time very differently- He also spent majority of his hours around Hajime. (At least, when Hajime didn't wanna be left alone. Sometimes being around other people was a little too difficult for him.) Hajime really liked spending his time with him. They'd often lay in bed together, just looking at eachother. It was nice to have those quiet moments of intimacy where they didn't have to say much.
Komaeda. Even when not around him, his thoughts almost always drifted back to him. He had felt so frustrated by the other boy for so long that coming to understand him felt unreal. Speaking of, he really needed to get home. Hajime had a bad habit of walking around absently, usually without warning anyone. He usually liked to be home before dark, but it was seeming like by the time he got back it was going to be well past then.
The water had risen as he had been standing in it and despite rolling up his pants they had still gotten wet. He groaned and shook as much off himself as he could as he began his walk back home.